Muggle Studies: A Summer Assignment
by samthecg
Summary: This summer, the students must work on a summer assignment, one that's sure to be different than any other they have seen before! Could it be... summer camp? Read on. A Hermione firstperson fic. So fun to write. Chapter two is up!
1. Pink Haired Herald of Disaster

Muggle Studies: A Summer Assignment

A/N: Hi everyone! Sam here, writing that fic I said I'd write for people who asked for fic. :P I'm here with Jenny, a hardcore HP nerd, and yes, I am friends with her... surprisingly. I'm not as crazy about the books… Not that I won't read them over and over. Yeah. I just read other stuff too. Variety is the spice of life, or so they say, which is why I'm trying my hand at HP fic. Hee. Okay, now onto the fic.

Oh, by the way, this is a first person fic, as Hermione, of course. Fun stuff. I'm Hermione! Ahahaha. Okay, I'll actually start. :P

Harry and Ron, late again. God, you'd think they'd have make an effort to be on time for their last Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I know, stuff's happened, they're scarred, sure, but being late? No. Not a good thing.

I wonder who's going to show up as the teacher, with Snape gone and all. After all that's happened, we get summer assignments, in case we aren't back at school next year. Thankfully. Otherwise I'd again be bored out of my mind for two months. Making up reports isn't quite as great as it sounds. No excitement, no surprises. sigh Well, this should be a surprise, at least. Fun, fun.

Oh. There they are, looking dishevelled as usual. They must have just woken up. Seriously, they need to take school more seriously!

"Why are you guys late?" I demanded. I really want to know how they could have ignored the three alarm clocks I had charmed last night.

"Well... uh..." They had nothing.

"Fine, whatever, as long as you're here now. Just... straighten yourselves up, and quickly. Class starts soon. You don't want to make a bad impression on whoever's coming."

The two of them fixed their hair and pulled the wrinkles out of their robes. They looked dreadful, and the sleep wasn't about to leave their eyes. I ignored it. Somehow. Well, sort of.

"Come on guys!" I whispered. "You can't look like this! Now really. Fix yourselves up. I didn't spend 20 minutes on my hair this morning, just to have you two spend 20 seconds on yours."

When they gave me a blank stare, I pulled out my wand.

"Tergeo." I commanded, immediately elliciting shrieks of alarm from the two.

"Ow." Ron muttered, holding his head.

"Yeah, you didn't have to wipe that hard Hermione." Harry added.

"Well, if you two hadn't insisted on ignoring my simple request, I might have done otherwise."

Those two can be so difficult sometimes. Really, it isn't good for their outward image.

There's not a second more to think about what the two need to improve about themselves - of course, I could've gone on for hours - but the door to the classroom creaked open at that moment.

And of all the people I expected to walk in, Professor McGonagall wasn't one of them. She was, though, at the door, with Tonks following behind. I couldn't help but wonder why she's there, too.

"This should be interesting." whispered Ron.

"Shush up!" Really, those two.

McGonagall began. "Welcome to your final class of the year. I'm sure you must all be excited for your summer break. However, the summer assignments must be handed out. You will not be told of how you will be graded, so please, no questions on the subject."

I slowly lowered my hand...

"I'm going to allow Nymphadora to speak to you now. The assignment was her idea, and it only seems fitting to allow her to present it. Nymphadora?"

McGonagall stepped aside and gestured for Tonks to take her place. She grinned in our general direction and moved forward, banging her knee on thedesk in the process. I winced.

"Ow! Oh, uh... right. Hi guys! Call me Nymphadora and I'll hex your ears off."

Ron snickered, but the rest of the class didn't seem quite as amused about that statement. Seamus looked like he was trying to hide behind Dean, who was fighting him off with his Defense text book. Neville slouched in his seat, and Lavender was glaring at Tonks ferociously.

Although whether that was because of the threat, or her spiked, bubblegum pink hair, I had no way of knowing.

I stole a glance at Professor McGonagall, whose lips were pressed into a thin line. She cleared her throat meaningfully.

"Right, Minerva, right." Tonks shuffled nervously. I sat up straighter in my seat and fixed all my attention on her. Ron made a disgruntled noise in his throat.

"Zip it." I snapped.

"There's really no need to suck up to Tonks, Hermione." He muttered, sharing an amused look with Harry. "I mean, it's Tonks."

I affixed him with a glare worthy of McGonagall and he quieted. Good. He may be slow at times, but even he had learned, over six years, to shut up when it seemed like his personal well being was at stake.

"So, let's get started, shall we?" Tonks, with a flick of her wand, sent pictures of children at a summer camp into the air.

I stared at her, with horror. Summer camp? There has got to be some sort of explanation. She must want us to... I don't know. She can't send us to summer camp! Can she? Oh no...

"This is your summer assignment. For the 40 of you in the room, this will be your life for the next 2 months. I went to summer camp once, as a girl, I loved it."

"Nymphadora?" McGonagall asked sternly.

"Right, right, the assignment. So, you guys are going to make groups of 4, and with that group of four, you get to go to summer camp! Each group is somewhere different, to add to the excitement!"

Excitement. Right. I glared at her.

Seamus puts his hand up. "Uh, what is summer camp, exactly?"

I rolled my eyes. This is why everyone should take Muggle Studies. There should be more than 5 of us in the class, really. Well, four, now that I dropped it. Well, I paid attention to every class, at least. I know what a summer camp is. We did it in third year.

"It's a site where care and activities are provided for muggle childrenduring the summer months; city kids get to see the country at a summer camp" Tonks dictated off a piece of parchment. I could have come up with a better definition than that.

"Where are these... summer camps?" Neville asked.

"Well, I'll inform all of you where you're going later. For now, form groups, and I'll hand out the papers explaning this more to you. Oh, this is too fun!"

As Tonks handed out the sheets, the room erupted in whispers. No one could believe it. Wizards at summer camp. The Slytherins were in an uproar, but was nothing, compared to Ron.

"My summer, lost. Summer camp? Mum's cooking, gone. This is wretched. How long is summer camp anyways? I wouldn't bear being away from home all year." He lamented.

Harry sat there, a bit of a smile poking through. It's easy to tell he's pleased at the thought of being with his friends for however long this summer camp is.

Tonks handed me the parchment. "This is all the information you need! I justneed your group members."

Knowing that the three of us would stick together, we needed another person. Looking around the room, I saw Neville, obviously groupless.

"Our group is Harry, Ron, Neville, and myself." I stated.

"Good, good. Neville, come join your group."

Neville came over to sit with us. "Thanks. I thought I'd have to go withSlytherins or something."

Ron shuddered. "Never. We couldn't do that to you, Neville." Harry responded.

I cut in. It was time to focus. "Guys, let's go over the requirements now, so we know what we're in for. This shouldn't be too bad. A summer without any quests. We need a break." I said. There was much nodding between the other three. I began to read aloud.

"Muggle Studies: A Summer Assignment

By signing your name on the dotted line below, you agree to keep the  
location of your summer camp a secret, as with any other pertinent  
information to the assignment.

Ron Weasley  
Harry Potter  
Hermione Granger  
Neville Longbottom "

The page below was empty, so I took out my quill, signed my name, and passed it to the others, who did the same.

"Okay Hermione, let's keep reading." said an anxious Ron.

Shimmering words appeared below the signed names. This was obviously a magical document only we could see. I read on.

"1. The summer camp you are attending is Doe Lake Camp, a girl guide camp in Ontario, Canada.

2. Each group member is required to change their appearance, for security reasons,for the duration of the camp. Your alter egos are shown below.

Ron: Andrew Prewett. Male. (American) Brown hair, short cut. Tall. Slim.  
Brown eyes. Wears sunglasses most of the time. Works as a repairman at the camp.

Harry: Eric Shen. Male. (Chinese) Black hair, layered, medium length. Short.  
Average build. Works as a kitchen staff.

Hermione: Sam Morris. Female. (Canadian) Blonde hair, resting on shoulders.Thin. Slightly taller than most. Blue eyes. Glasses. LIT at the camp.

Neville: Toad. Male. (N/A) Green. Small. Fat. Toad-like. Works as a toad.

3. You shall remain at the camp for one full month.

4. I, Tonks, will routinely monitor your camp experience, grading you each time. However, I will be undercover, so you will not know when these examinations occur. Therefore, remain perfect campers throughout.

5. Enjoy yourselves. This is a once in a lifetime experience, so do not dwell on the marks of the examinations. Your scores will arrive through the mail the week you return home.

Sincerely,

Nymphadora Tonks"

"What are sunglasses, exactly? Dad brought a pair home once. They were rather large, and didn't look quite like any glasses I had ever seen..." Ron seemed curious.

I pulled out a pair I had, for when I skiied, of course, to show him. I rather liked my sunglasses, so I kept them in my bag, for safe keeping.

"Oh. Right then. Shaded glasses. Got it." Ron was pleased at the thought of looking cool to all the girls at the camp.

"A kitchen staff? But I can't cook, really." Harry was a little distraught.

Neville, however, was quite a bit more distraught. "A toad! But, but... you guys are all _people_, and I'm a toad? This isn't right."

"Maybe you can spy for us..." I tried desperately to make his situation look better than it was. It's not like we needed a spy.

"Yeah, okay, I'll be a spy." Clearly, he didn't see how pointless it was. I chose not to point it out.

"Well then, we're in for an interesting time, aren't we? I'm going to see if I can find any information on this camp." I said, as I raised my hand for permission to leave for the library. Already I was wracking my brain for ideas of how to impress everyone at the camp, in case one was Tonks in disguise. I would have to be the best LIT yet.

"This is shaping up to be quite the summer, isn't it?" I thought to myself, as I gathered my books. This should be very, _very_ interesting.

And there is chapter one. I plan on writing more, there are many ideas brewing in my strange mind, so please review. It's too hard to write with no feedback. Simply too hard. (Okay, it isn't, but I like attention! Shut up.) Oh, and as for Hermione being Sam, Jenny forced me. _Forced_, I say. Yeah. I shall write more, I think.


	2. Six Minutes Is All It Takes

Ron stared through the terminal window in absolute horror. He had been firm in his stance against airplanes as a mode of transportation, ever since his father had told him about all the things that could possibly go wrong with one. (Three quarters of which were not to do with airplanes at all, but with hot air balloons and zeppelins, might I add.) Still, I had never expected for him to really be so scared.

"Don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of. These things fly all the time, and nothing bad happens." Harry tried to comfort him.

"I. Cannot. Get. On. That. Thing." Ron was huffing at this point. Things were not looking good for us. At that point, the chances of us getting on that plane easily were almost nonexistent.

"Well, fine." I was not up for this, not with such an important assignment at hand. "I'm not going to care, Ron. You can stay here if you want, but you cannot use a broomstick to cross the Atlantic. It isn't a good idea."

"Yeah," piped up Harry. "What if a seagull hits you and you fall off? That would be a horrid way to die, I must admit."

There was a lady behind us in line who seemed very... confused by all our talking.

"He's a little off, miss. He needs a little help knowing what's real and what isn't," I whispered to her.

"Oh, oh right. Okay then." She didn't want to get involved with an "off" teenager.

"Hey, I am not off! I've got a right mind to not want to get on that pile of metal. How could that hunk of junk fly!" Ron was nearly livid. He was not going to get on that plane easily. Thankfully, we'd already said the goodbyes to his family before taking the bus to the airport. I wouldn't want any other people on his side about this. His mum and dad had been pretty against the idea of Ron on a plane too.

"Ron, I could _make_ you get on that plane right now. I know my spells," I whispered menacingly. There's no joking when it comes to school assignments. Not with me.

"You wouldn't dare." Ron was ready to fight back, or so it seemed.

"Try me. One more word, one step in the wrong direction, and I will. Maybe I will try my hand at _furnunculus_, and none of the girls will find you as pretty, even with your sunglasses." I was serious, though I really am not sure if I could bring myself to cause his face to erupt with boils. Besides, people might ask questions if they see a normal boy's face disfigured in a matter of seconds.

"Fine. I'll get on the bloody plane." He added a string of curses to that, under his breath, which I chose to ignore. I'm glad he didn't figure out that I would never "boil" him, per se.

Once we had boarded the plane, and settled in our seats, the overhead compartment began to ring. It was someone's cell phone, though I didn't know who's. None of us had needed a cell phone. Perhaps it had been forgotten by someone on an earlier flight.

I tried to get up to answer it, but I remembered Ron was gripping my hand with his very white knuckles.

"Ron, let go of my hand, now." I said sternly.

He did nothing but stare at the seat in front of him intently. I figured there wasn't much of a chance of getting a response out of him with speech, so I dug my fingernail into the base of his thumb. A little self-defense tactic I learned. He screeched.

"YOW!"

He lifted his hand in alarm, and I snatched mine back. I stood to get to the phone as he asked, "Why'd you do that!"

Clearly he couldn't figure out what I was doing, which was a little sad. I wasn't about to explain it. Maybe it would teach him not to zone out like that anymore. Harry did understand my logic, however, and explained it to Ron as I opened the compartment's door.

The ringing was coming from Neville's bag. I could have asked him why he had a phone, but I decided I might as well check for myself. I took his bag out of the compartment, to have a better look.

"Hermione, why are you taking my bag out?" Neville was royally confused.

"It's ringing, and has been for five minutes!" Neville still looked confused, much more than before.

"But I don't have a phone, I don't think." He said this as I pulled a tiny, state-of-the-art cell phone from the front pocket of his bag.

"Sure you don't Neville." I turned the phone on, as Ron and Harry snickered to themselves.

"Hello?"

"This is a message for Neville. There is a vial of transfiguration potion in your bag. Go to the washrooms in 6 minutes and take it. This is a message for Neville. There is a vial of..." It kept repeating, it was Tonks' voice on a loop.

"Here Neville, listen up." I passed the phone to him, and he listened intently.

Six minutes later, Neville rose from his seat, and went to the washrooms with a tiny vial of a thick, greenish brown liquid. The moment he entered the washroom, a phone rang in Harry's bag, and so forth. Eventually, my turn came round (I was last) and I went to the washroom with a small vial of a nearly clear, magenta tinted potion. I closed the door behind me and swallowed.

It was a very strange experience, to say the least. It tingled on the way down, and the tingling sensation lingered, flowing to engulf my whole body. My hair lost volume and became lighter. It was manageable! I brushed my fingers, which were changing as well, through it, though nothing was as utterly cool as being able to run my fingers through my hair. It was hard to get over, really, though the drastic change in appearance caused some interest as well. At least I didn't look strange this time, as I had in the past. Though it was odd - I could see perfectly fine. The instructions had said I would have glasses, but I wasn't wearing any. I stared in the mirror and saw that I was wearing contacts. As much as I can be a bookworm, I prefer not looking the part. Contacts can help with that. And so with this swift change, I became Sam Morris, leaving Hermione Granger behind for the return at the end of the summer.

Actually, I almost _had_ left Hermione behind. There was a tiny vial, with a blue green liquid sitting on the sink's rim, with _Hermione Granger_ printed on the label. That was one thing I could not leave behind. The last thing I needed was some random plane passenger becoming me.

I left the stall and went to sit in my seat, beside the new Andrew Prewett, who hadn't left his old Ron self fully behind, as he was still gripping the armrest. I guess some things don't change. Oh well. Harry, er, Eric, looked very strange, but I could tell it was Harry, still. Neville, well, sitting in Harry's open palm, he looked much different. The two were conversing. It's a good thing Neville the toad can still talk. A very good thing. What good is a "spy" that can't even talk? Ha. Spy.

I pulled an old Muggle studies textbook out of my bag and began to read _Chapter 12: Outdoor Activities_ which encompasses camp life. There's no better way to spend a long plane ride than doing research. Ahh. What fun.


End file.
